


The Oldest Form of Education

by MusicalFangirl00193



Series: National Days [88]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Especially the one from The Hobbit, Even beyond trying to find the quotes I wanted to use, For Dr. Seuss' Birthday, Gen, It hated me for writing it, M/M, Sorry if this feels blocky, This story did not want to come out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 08:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13854276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalFangirl00193/pseuds/MusicalFangirl00193
Summary: Lee always read to Eggsy at bedtime, no matter how tired he was, whenever he was home, Lee always read Eggsy a bedtime story, until he didn't come home.





	The Oldest Form of Education

**Author's Note:**

> For Dr. Seuss' birthday, yay!

“Ready for bed, Eggsy?” Lee asked, scooping his son up off the living room floor, tickling him as he carried the little boy to his bedroom. 

“Daaaa,” Eggsy whined even as he giggled. “I’m not tired.”

“That yawn doesn’t quite have me convinced,” Lee said, dropping Eggsy gently on the bed. “What story do you want to read tonight, my little egg?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed as Eggsy cocooned himself in his blanket.

Eggsy paused once he was situated just the way he liked, considering the options on the bookshelf in front of him. “Wocket,” he said eventually, settling down in the bed.

“There’s a Wocket in My Pocket it is,” Lee said, grabbing the book from the shelf and settling into the bed next to Eggsy to read the story.

“But the Zillow on my pillow always helps me fall asleep,” he read the last line quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to Eggsy’s forehead and putting the book on the nightstand. “Good night, Eggsy,” Lee murmured, turning the light off as he shut the door. 

Lee left for training the next morning. Michelle tried to read the stories to him, but something about it just felt wrong to Eggsy, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

There’s a Wocket in my Pocket was the last bedtime story Eggsy ever had, receiving a consolation prize in the form of a medal instead of his father coming home.

* * *

When Daisy was born, Eggsy dug out the old books his father had read to him. He started the routine of storytime again, even if it was only on nights when Dean wasn’t home.

After his own Kingsman training, Eggsy was able to read to his flower every night.

“Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care. Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air. Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack. Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back," Eggsy murmured, the words of the story coming easily off his tongue. He closed the book, looking down to see that Daisy was asleep. “Good night, flower.” He pressed a kiss to Daisy’s forehead, setting the book on the nightstand before turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him.

“Are you alright, love?” Harry asked when Eggsy paused in the doorway of their room.

“Yeah,” Eggsy said, voice a bit rough. “I just...bedtime stories are one of the few things I still remember doing with my da. Dr. Seuss and all.”

Harry nodded, holding out an arm for Eggsy, who crossed the room and slipped under the offered arm. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Eggsy’s forehead. “And I absolutely adore you.”

“Love you too,” Eggsy yawned, curling into Harry’s side. “Read to me?” he asked.

“I’m not reading anything quite so happy as Dr. Seuss,” Harry said, “But of course I will.” Harry readjusted so that he could hold both the book and Eggsy before beginning to read aloud. “‘No!’ said Thorin. ‘There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.’”

“You’re right,” Eggsy murmured, “It isn’t as happy as Dr. Seuss,”

Harry laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest before he set the book on the bedside table and turned off the lamp. “Good night, Eggsy.”

“Night, Harry,” Eggsy yawned into Harry’s chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for how shit this is, I needed to write something and I don't know what to write for class.
> 
> Not beta'd, not British, and I don't own Kingsman


End file.
